Soft as Thunder
by silencewillfall009
Summary: Strength. Discipline. Honor. These are the pillars of Turian Society. And after meeting a race faced with extinction, they will stand by these pillars. No matter what the Asari say.
1. Chapter 1

Strength. Discipline. Honor. These are the pillars of Turian Society. And after meeting a race faced with extinction, they will stand by these pillars. No matter what the _Asari_ say.

* * *

 _Hierarchy Cruiser; **Victorious**_

"We've got contact."

"Contact? With what?"

"Large object, bearing 3-12."

"Track it. Do you have visual?"

"No visual. Sensor data's coming in. 1,782 metres in length, design unknown."

"Design? Is it a ship?"

"If so it's a weird one. Size of a dreadnought, built like a cruiser."

"A cruiser? At 1,800 metres?"

"All I have is the sensor data, sir."

"Alright, bring the _Might of Palaven_ and the _Righteous Death_ to bear, and hail the ship. Send a message to the council, tell them we have possible first contact."

"Aye sir."

Admiral Cyprian Decimus, of the 7th Scout Flotilla of the 3rd fleet Victorious stared at the data. 4 weeks of patrolling backwater systems and following ghost signals had led to this. Probably the culmination of his career, contact with a new species. It's what little Turians looking to the stars dreamed about. Hell, he dreamed of it as a child. This could be interesting.

"Sir? We've got a response."

"Patch it through."

"... It's not a worded response, sir. It seems to be text."

"Text? Readable text? In Tredan?"

"Seems to be. An ancient variant, look like some old religious text, but readable."

"What does it say?"

"All who harbour _them_ shall not be spared. _They_ cannot hide. If you harbour _them,_ you shall not be spared. Death to the heretics. Glory to the Prophets."

"Uh… What?"

"Seems to be asking if we're hiding _them_."

"Who are _them_?"

"Sir, with all due respect, hell if I know. I'm just the comms specialist. Leave that to the eggheads."

That snapped him back to the moment

"Say we hide nothing, and we welcome them to the galactic community. There are no enemies here."

"Aye Sir."

A few minutes passed in uncomfortable silence.

"We got a response sir!"

"Play it out, specialist."

"The message just reads, " _Ignorant Children. There are enemies everywhere. Do not interfere with what you do not understand_."

To say the message was cryptic would be an understatement. No more references to "them", just what seemed to be an insult and a warning. Perhaps they meant to-

"6 ADDITIONAL CONTACTS, BEARING 394!"

"Aliens?"

"...Maybe? Sensors say different materials, different designs."

"1 dreadnought, 5 cruisers."

"Recall the _Righteous Death_ and _Might of Palaven_. All ships in a defensive posture around the relay, prepare to-"

"Weapons fire! Original contact is firing on new contacts! Designation changed to Hostile 1, and Neutrals 1-6."

"Neutrals are returning fire!"

"Spirits! H-01 is firing plasma!"

"Neutrals returning fire with… Holy shit, 600 ton slugs!"

"H-01 has some kind of energy shields- nothing's getting through!"

"Neutrals 2, 4, and 5 are disabled and drifting!"

"Sir, the flotilla is requesting orders."

"Bring in the Manae's Flight and the Order through Justice. Get us sandwiched in between the two sides."

"...Sir?"

"DO IT!"

"...Aye Sir. Moving in, point 34. Manae and Order have acknowledged and are moving in."

* * *

It was a clash of titans, of epic proportions. The giants clashed, spitting glowing death, as explosions rattled the void, and molten metal poured into the gaping holes in the 3 remaining neutral vessels.

And in the void, 3 pinpricks of light blasted towards the glowing mess.

* * *

 _ **UNSC Glowing Embers.**_

The scout flotilla was utterly broken. With half the ships were disabled, and the lone Marathon Cruiser in no condition to fight within the next decade, the remaining frigates clustered into what would normally be described as a "wolfpack", if it wasn't an insult to every other wolfpack that ever existed. Including ones made of actual wolves. Whatever firepower the remaining Paris and Charon class frigates could give, the Covenant Battlecruiser could take and return tenfold.

Admiral Nathan Smith held on as the Ember was rocked by more of the damned plasma torpedos.

"Sir! 3 of the Unknowns have broken off, and are heading towards no-mans land."

"Sensor station, repeat?"

"3 unknowns, heading to No-Mans Land."

"Will they enter the firing lanes?"

"Yes sir."

"Have all ships cease fire as they pass. We can't afford another war."

"Aye Sir. Relaying orders to _Imperator_ and _Dying Light_."

 _What are those fuckers up to?_

* * *

The 3 hierarchy cruisers fell into position directly in between the opposing vessels, and waited. There was a palpable tension as both sides simply stared at what would later be called "the most ballsy gamble in modern Turian history", as the hierarchy vessels tried to open up channels with everyone at once.

"We've got another transmission from H-01", a comms officer shouted.

"No response from any of the neutrals.", another responded.

"Patch it through."

The admiral's calm voice cut through the chatter of the CIC.

The officer obliged, and as the screen flickered on, a… thing appeared.

It was hard to describe. It's mouth split into 4, with numerous teeth on the interior, and it spoke with a deep, sonorous voice in an archaic style that fell out of fashion centuries ago.

" _You insolent children! We warned you to stay away from interfering with that you do not understand. But now you stand with the heretics, and shall burn with them. You shall woe the day you dared to defy the Covenant."_

Then, all hell broke loose.

The vessel designated as H-01 opened fire on the remainders of the neutral forces. Vessels N-01, N-03, and N-06 fired up the reverse thrusters, while firing their 600 ton slugs.

The Manae's Flight blasted full speed towards port, and broadsided the vessel with every mass driver capable of firing at that angle.

The Order through Justice knocked into reverse, firing the main mass accelerator at speeds that were probably not safe for either the gun, or its target.

The Victorious pulled back towards the relay, which happened to be behind the Neutral forces.

And through all that, the Covenant Battlecruiser bared menacingly down on the ragged fleet.

* * *

Hey guys! Starting off with as space battle here ('cause there's no way _that_ could go wrong.)! Actually space-happenings will be later. Seeya next time!


	2. Chapter 2

Hello People! As some people may know, I like to write my chapters in groups of 2. You'll notice most of my stories have an even number of chapters. Anyways, this was already written, when the first chapter came out, but was significantly less polished. Here it is, as what is probably the more boring section.

* * *

The _Victorious_ and her flotilla crumpled like wet tissue paper before the battlecruiser. The _Righteous Death_ was ample evidence of that, several glowing holes burned straight through the bridge, and fiery explosions still rumbling through the hull.

The _Manae's Flight_ was currently dealing with a sortie of fighter-bombers, and most of the Neutrals were in full retreat towards a gas giant in-system.

That left the _Might of Palaven,_ the _Victorious,_ and _Neutral-05_ to deal with the battlecruiser currently attempting to send their souls to fairyland.

"Disruptor Torpedoes away."

"Gun one, reorienting."

"GARDIANs engaging enemy fighter-bombers."

"The _Palaven_ requesting joint Arlington-Cesarean maneuver."

The "Arlington Cesarean" was a famously suicidal maneuver, in which 2 ships (usually frigates) fired constant streams of torpedoes and the largest ordinance possible until one overheats, in which it will ram the target, and detonate its mass effect core, creating massive gravity fluctuations comparable to a small star in a very localised location (less than 1000 km). It was usually used for small escort frigates or destroyers combating dreadnoughts or space stations. The _Might of Palaven_ was essentially requesting to be used as a suicide bomber.

"Denied. We're desperate, specialist, not _that_ desperate."

* * *

Shockwaves crashed through the _Imperator,_ as it held the line with the 3 remaining unknown vessels for the retreating _Glowing Embers_ and _Dying Light_.

"Damage, all along the port engine!"

"Breeches in sections 5, 9, and 13!"

"All point defence on port side are down and out for the count!"

"Casualties mounting, no life signs in section 5!"

As chaos reigned on the bridge, the ship's AI flickered on.

"Captain, I have an idea."

The Captain turned from the damage report.

"Yes?"

"If we push forwards, and force the battlecruiser's bow away from the unknowns, we could clear a path for the towards the engines."

"That would put us directly into the firing lanes for it's projector."

"Aye Sir. But it would buy time for the _Ember_ and _Death_ , and give our allies a chance to disable the ship."

The Captain wrinkled his brow.

"Are there any other options?"

"This is the only one with over a 3 percent chance of success."

The Captain sighed, but reached for the internal comms.

"This is the Captain to all hands. I'll put it bluntly, we're all going to die. But we have a chance to take the bastards down with us. If we do this, we will all die slightly faster. By that, I mean in about 3 minutes. If we don't, our projected lifespan is approximately 5 minutes. So, should we burn the fucker to ash, or live slightly longer?"

A long pause came through the intercom, as the bridge crew guffawed at the wording of the message. They were all going to die anyways, formality was thrown out the window.

"This is engineering. The core is primed and ready to blow, just say the word."

"Weapons, we're here and ready to burn."

"Quarters, check and death-ready."

"ODST complement, feet first into hell, OORAH."

The Captain turned back to the AI.

"Do it."

* * *

"Sir, N-05 is breaking formation, and seems to be launching escape pods."

"Move to compensate."

"I don't think I can, Sir. It's accelerating directly towards the hostile."

The first officer broke off from his observation of the weapons crew.

"What? Has their captain gone mental? That puts them directly in the arc of the energy weapon!"

The Captain broke off from the tactical map. His eyes widened,

"Signal the _Palaven_ to break off at point 34! Helmsman! Take us to section 342!"

He stared intently into the map,

"They're making an opening for us."

* * *

Turians and retreating humans alike watched in horror as the _Imperator_ broke formation, pushing directly towards the bow of the battlecruiser, sustaining broadside after broadside directly on its frontal armour and cannon, it's MAC firing round after round point blank onto the bridge of the battlecruiser. The battlecruiser veered to avoid the vessel currently careening towards it's bow, and reorienting its energy-projector towards the incoming frigate.

It seemed for a moment that the _Imperator_ would perform a successful ramming maneuver, but it was too late. The projector burned with white fire, and the frigate exploded into a nuclear fireball.

Their shields flickered, and died, as the massive impact of hundreds of tons of detonated ordinance impacted all along the port side of the battlecruiser. And with that, the _Might of Palaven,_ and the _Victorious_ slipped into the ideal firing arc; directly behind the engines.

* * *

Every Turian on the bridge stood in silence as the massive explosion filled the viewports of the battlefield. They knew what it took to sacrifice lives like that. And so they went to work.

" _Manae, you're out of alignment."_

"I think our thrusters are disabled, we can't move."

"You're 5 sections from the target, they're moving to intercept!"

"We can't move, our core is fluctuating, and our chemical thrust is out!"

"Can you use the boosters on the-"

The sensor officer shouted across his words,

"HOSTILE IS FIRING TORPEDOES, AND MOVING TOWARDS _MANAE_!"

" _Manae, get out of there, now!"_

"Hostile tracking torpedoes impact in, _10_ , _9, 8-"_

"We're not getting out of this,"

" _7, 6, 5-"_

"Just use the gravity of the-"

" _4, 3-"_

 _"_ It's too late."

"Deploy your shields and-"

" _2, 1"_

The final message of the _Manae_ appeared;

"Glory to Palaven."

A white flash, and the _Manae_ detonated.

* * *

The _Palaven_ and _Victorious_ managed to slip behind the battlecruiser, relying on the spectacular destruction of N-05 and the _Manae_ to distract the hostile's crew.

Once in alignment, they fired every single available weapon system, from GARDIAN pulses to massive spreads of disruptor torpedoes, as the hulking behemoth tried to turn and engage.

It was no use. The Turian vessels, while undoubtedly weaker, were much, much faster at sublight speeds. Using chemical lateral thrust, and warping space, they threw fire up the ass of the battlecruiser, and using its own exhaust to confuse the hostile targeting sensors. Eventually, the 2 cruisers worked their way through dozens of metres of armour, bulkheads, bodies and corridors, and hit the core, literally gutting the ship.

While the _Imperator_ was primed to go from the start of it's suicidal maneuver, and the _Manae's Flight's_ core was damaged, the battlecruiser's core was locked down, and didn't detonate when hit. The ship simply shut down, life support and all.

After a ship was disabled, it was generally boarded, and had all information collected to be dissected by the Salarians. However, neither the _Palaven,_ nor the _Victorious_ had the capacity to do so, as most of their crew was dead, injured, or in some state of shock. The flotilla had lost 2/3rds of its ships dealing with a single vessel. They even had allies! But it took a suicidal maneuver, thousands of casualties, and the loss of 2 Turian cruisers, 2 allied cruisers, and an allied _dreadnought_ to take apart the behemoth.

The crew of the _Embers_ was ecstatic. They had managed to destroy a _Covenant Battlecruiser_ , and only lost a couple thousand men! Only 2 frigates and a cruiser, lost against a battlecruiser? It was unheard of. Hell, maybe they would finally find some friendly alien fucks for a change. The last sight they saw before the slipspace jump were the 2 alien frigates picking up escape pods.

" _Maybe these ones aren't so bad."_

* * *

 ** _Council Chambers, The Citadel_**

Two of the three counselors stared at the holoprojection of the battle.

"Well, you Turians have gone and fucked this up, haven't you?"

The silence from the Turian counselor was deafening. The glare he was giving Tevos, doubly so.

"We saw a race under unprovoked attack by an unknown force. How were we supposed to deal with it?"

"The being literally said, ' _Do not interfere with what you do not understand.'_ How much more clear could it get?"

"I think the captain understood perfectly. The first contact clearly fired the first round. The Neutrals did nothing but react. When we deployed, they ignored our warnings, and went ahead and fired at both of our fleets. So I ask again, _how were we supposed to deal with it?"_

Tevos threw her hands in the air, and turned away in disgust.

"Well, thanks to your admiral, _I_ have a PR disaster to deal with. _Maybe_ I can mend relations with that race _you_ attacked."

"Yes, because our attacks were clearly unprovoked," Sparatus drawled sarcastically.

"You have to think in the long run, councilor. What effects could the aliens have on us? On the hierarchy? How could we deal with a war?"

"I was thinking in the long term. An alliance with a race, and the destruction of a threat.

"We'll save _that_ for when we interrogate the prisoners," Tevos replied.

"Wait. Interrogate? Prisoners? Those _survivors_ are guests of the Turian Hierarchy, to be returned to their government when possible."

Tevos turned around with a menacing grin.

"They aren't yours anymore. The Republics have taken the prisoners. For _informational_ purposes, of course."

* * *

 _ **Common Area 78, Installation 49B,** **Home of the 7th Scout Flotilla**_

ODST Private Isabella Harrison watched as the spiky alien drew blood from her arm. These ones were strange, to say the least, but undoubtedly better than the Covenant. They were birdlike, but not quite to the extent of jackals. They seemed more... Humaniod. They also didn't have the whole purple fetish the Covenant did. Anyways, picking up escape pods were not exactly the Covenant's style.

The bird-alien-thing showed the results to another bird-alien-thing that took blood from the medic next to her. They nodded, and showed her a picture of what appeared to be cells, or something. She shook her head, and pointed to the medic. The medic took the pictures, and seemed to understand.

"They're asking what kind of protein we're based on- levo or dextro."

He pointed towards the levo structure, and the creatures nodded their understanding.

"Hey, at least they do hospitality better than the Covenant."

Izzy stared back at the medic,

"The Covenant don't do hospitality."

"Exactly."

There was a commotion by the door, and two new creatures strolled in. They appeared to be... attractive human women. But without the hair, and with tenticals. And also blue.

"Wonder what they're on about."

* * *

"You aren't allowed in here."

The 2 Asari waltzed past the door guard like he didn't exist. Inside, the 2 lounging guards shot to their feet, and brought their rifles to bear.

The Asari paused.

"We're here on the order of the Republics to interrogate the prisoners. Stand aside."

"We have orders to guards these _guests._ And let nobody approach."

One of the Asari sighed, and tried to push past the guards towards the aliens, but one of the Turians shoved her back with the butt of his rifle.

"I don't think you heard me, ma'am. Nobody approaches the guests."

The Asari growled.

"I'll have you know, _soldier,_ that you've just assaulted a Republics Commando, and you shall have a court martial on you very soon."

The Turians turned towards each other and laughed.

"And you, will still not approach the guests."

The other, older Asari stepped forwards.

"We have orders from the Republics, soldier. Your dedication is commendable, but unnecessary."

As the guard read the orders, including the transfer of "prisoners" to the Asari Republic for "Inquiries", he knew there was nothing he could do. It was very unusual for a government to essentially go over another's head, but this came from the council itself, and there was not much he could do, unless the eggheads in the hierarchy got involved. Then, he noticed something,

"Why is this only signed by councilor Tevos?"

"The other councilors need not be bothered by such a minor matter as this."

The soldier sighed, but stepped aside to allow access.

"You have 1 hour."

* * *

The ODSTs watched the scuffle in the center of the room warily. They may not hate the spiky-aliens, but they didn't know these new ones. No matter how hot they were.

Finally, as the soldiers stepped aside, the 2 new creatures sauntered up to Pvt Izzy, and pulled her up roughly, snapping out the I.V. in her arm. The guards seemed to want to protest, but stayed silent as they dragged her into an adjoining room. As she pushed past the soldiers, some gave apologetic looks.

Inside the room, the two blue humaniods sat her down in a chair, with another sitting opposite. The blue-chick placed a hand on either side of her head, and muttered something incomprehensible. As her eyes turned black, the world faded away.

* * *

 _Where are you from?_

It wasn't in a language. It was more like Izzy could feel the question instinctively. Instantly, the Cole Protocol came to the forefront of her mind, and she refused to answer. The alien's frustration could be felt.

 _Why do you fight?_

Cole protocol.

 ** _Pvt Isabella Harrison, Service Number 1738-320._**

 _Who are you?_

 ** _Pvt Isabella Harrison, Service Number 1738-320._**

 _How do you speak?_

It seemed innocuous enough, so she showed flashes of language, english, french, lessons, nuances.

This seemed to satisfy the creature enough to show flashes of her own language, which was strange. The syntax was weirdly melodic.

 _Why do you fight?_

 ** _Pvt Isabella Harrison, Service Number 1738-320._**

 _If you do not wish to show me, I have other ways._

 ** _Pvt Isabella Harrison, Service Number 1738-320._**

 _Where are you from?_

 ** _Pvt Isabella Harrison, Service Number 1738-320._**

She could feel the creature roar, and push against her memories. Nothing. It pushed again, harder. She wasn't going to budge.

 _Very well, we shall do this the hard way._

In the physical world, Isabella Harrison started screaming.

* * *

 _ **Common Room, Installation 49B**_

When the screaming started, the guards jumped. When it continued, they fidgeted. After 30 minutes with no sign of stopping, 2 of them finally rushed the door, kicking it open. Inside, the older Asari was supervising the younger tear into the human's brain. The Turians stormed the room, one tackling the supervising matron, and the other smashing the maiden's head with the butt of his rifle. The meld broke in an instant, and guards restrained both Asari, and carried the human to the medical bay. The first flashes of conflict between the Asari and Turians had begun.

* * *

You may note that the Asari seem to be unusually blunt in this chapter. There's a reason for this. Don't worry, they have some... interesting plans.


	3. The Front Line

The sky was the color of blood.

Perhaps people would have seen this as an omen of the terrible slaughter to come, if the skies did not always run red in Merkava, when the upper atmosphere ignited each morning to the heat of the nearby star.

Every day of its existence, Merkava had burned. Now, it simply burned much more than usual.

* * *

 _ **Entrenchments around Ashkenazi, capital of Merkava**_

"LIGHT UP THE BASTARDS"

The cracks of rifle fire swept over the UNSC trenches, cutting down the newest squad of grunts in a seemingly endless waves of suicide attacks. Overhead, a squat, ugly covenant frigate dropped down the newest wave of attackers who would inevitably fall before the entrenched defenders.

Sergeant Nicholas Le gazed over his series of fortifications, and the men under his command. Several of them had already broken, and were loudly sobbing in their foxholes, or staring blankly at walls. Snorting, he shifted his gaze to a nearby PFC and muttered his signature phrase;

"They need to get some more damned troops up here."

The private, recognising the phrase after several hours worth of repetition, grinned and replied;

"Very astute observation Sarge."

"You're damned right."

A few moments of awkward silence later, they both returned to scanning for the coming attacks.

* * *

 _ **Covenant Cruiser "Enlightened Despots"**_

"What news of the front?"

"No more than 5 minutes ago sir."

"It is uncharacteristic of these pests to hold such tenuous positions for so long."

"Perhaps sir. They are well entrenched, and air support cannot operate effectively, what with the sky being constantly on fire."

"Bah! In my day, it would rain acid, and they would send us out with only a rock above our heads and a stick in our hands, and we would still whip these humans."

"Of course sir."

"..."

"..."

"So… any more news?"

"Still a deadlock sir."

"Prophets be damned!"

* * *

 _ **UNSC CENTCOM Merkava**_

General Spielvogel, general of the 8th Marine Regiment, newly assigned to the defense of Merkava, was taking a nap when the news came. A technician was sent to rouse the sleeping commander.

"Sir?"

A startled snort later, and the general was fully awake.

"Yes lad? Has the deadlock been broken?"

"No sir, news from orbit. A new groups of ships just appeared in system. They don't look like ours."

"What?"

"A whole flotilla sir. Some 35 ships."

"Damn. Any response from-"

"And also one of the ice moons exploded and there's a giant metal fork there now.:

"Of course it did. Is that all?"

"The navy is pulling back until they've analysed those new ships."

"The navy is pulling back?"

"Yes sir. They're abandoning Merkava. They send their apologies, and will wait in the outskirts of the system until reinforcements arrive."

The technician fled the room before the general's yelling began in earnest.

* * *

 _ **Covenant FOB, Outskirts of Ashkenazi Defense line.**_

General Il Varumee, of the Legion of Glorious Purpose, was staring intensely at a battlemap when the news came.

"General, Shipmaster Harum reports new contacts in orbit."

"Ah, did the pests get reinforcements? How cute."

"No General, the contacts are unknown. The fleet of Righteous Fury is pulling back until identification is found."

"They think tis a third party?"

"Perhaps, general."

"Are we to lose orbital support to those _pests_?"

"It appears the humans are pulling back as well."

"Ah, so a continuation of the deadlock."

"Precisely general."

The general turned his eyes from the map towards his aide.

"Minor, did I ever tell you how much I detest the navy?"

* * *

 _ **Turian "Exploratory" Dreadnought "Fire of Fury," Newly discovered Merkava Systems**_

Technically, the "Fire of Fury" really was on an exploratory mission. It had zipped through some 8 unexplored systems already, sending just enough data back to the citadel to justify its title of "Scientific Exploration and Analysis." And it's not as if the Turian Hierarchy would send a task force specifically to look for a group of aliens it had recently fired upon. No, if that had happened, the Asari would have been ever so cross.

Admittedly, when the "Exploration" group found a Covenant battlegroup about to burn a planet, they reacted with the typical zeal of Titian's enforcing citadel law.

* * *

I'm back! No promises on consistency of updates, but for what it's worth, I'll try. Short chapter, working on something substantial.


End file.
